The Leaky Cauldron
by Qilin
Summary: AU, didn't go to HW. Harry never believed in werewolves. Aliens?-Sure space was pretty big. When he finds himself carried off by a werewolf named Remus, he figures it's some kind of LSD trip. The Leaky Cauldron's just a fantasy pub for LARPing, right?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I'm just making sand castles on someone else's beach.

**Story for Rue-the-Marauder's _AU challenge_**

Deadline April 1st

.

.

**The Leaky Cauldron**

.

.

He was late.

He was _so _late.

George would _kill him_.

They had planned to meet today in London. George was moving to the continent soon and this would be one of the few times they would get a chance to talk. Harry would miss him; they had been close friends ever since Harry had been eleven. So close, that George's parents considered Harry to be family.

They were a boon in his unhappy life filled with the Dursleys –in fact, if it wasn't for George's parents, Harry wasn't sure how he would have survived his school years. The summers happened to be particularly bad; Dudley's fluxing diets would often insure that Harry wouldn't get enough to eat.

George McClain and his parents were a Godsend.

Turning the corner and arriving on the street featuring the little café that Harry had visited with George years ago; Harry tripped onto the ice and snow covered sidewalk when he miss-stepped onto the curb.

"_Urghh!_" he shouted in surprise when he slid across the ice, ripping a new hole in his old worn jeans. Looks like he'd have to ask Mrs. McClain to patch it later; if they ended up visiting George's parents. Harry was quite shoddy at sewing, even though he had been forced to do it often over the years.

Harry sighed as he wiped his scrapped up hands on his thighs before attempting to stand up.

He was lucky his hands were already bandaged. When he had punched Dudley in his fat face a day ago, he hadn't realized that impact with the tubby monster's body would break or bruise his knuckles when the fight had escalated. God, if Dudley was likened to a super hero character he would have been the Blob.

Too bad Dudley had not gone down in the first hit. Harry examined the bandages wrapped around his swelling knuckles; good- the wraps had not suffered much damage.

The bandages did a poor job of keeping his hands warm. Harry looked at the bright side and hoped the chill around him would help reduce the swelling.

His threadbare scarf had fallen from his neck and was whipped up in the wind to where it had deposited on the doorstep of a very grungy looking pub. Harry adjusted his glasses and read the sign.

_'The Leaky Cauldron, huh. Sounds like some kind of Renaissance-y, Ye Olde Fashioned Shoppe. I wonder if you need to be in costume to be allowed in.'_

Harry got up and retrieved his scarf, wrapping it tightly around his neck and most of his lower face. He looked around quickly before fiddling with his glasses; a nervous tick that had always allowed George to beat him at the card games. George dominated most games they played in the boy's dorm of the boarding school they both attended. Though Harry seemed to have a talent for anything involving hand-eye coordination.

Harry's head darted forward and pushed the door open a smidge, just to take a peek inside.

Amongst the dusty, dark interior, groups of people dressed in long black capes... no. They wore robes and many kinds of strange hats. The robe wearers- cosplayers? spoke animatedly.

He could hear a particularly loud group, filled with a large amount of red heads situated by the door. It was rare that a whole family seemed to fantasy role-play.

Harry shrugged. If his parents had survived the crash, he'd like to think that at least his father would have played Doom.

_"…Is Remus coming? I know last night was the full moon, he may not have recovered from the damage he did to himself as a werewolf."_

_"Shhhhussh! Don't talk about that! you know he's evaded the werewolf patrols so far. If they pick him up because YOU were too loud, we'd be one more Order member down. At this point we need everyone!"_

_"..."_

_"You know how he is. He may or may not. Remus still doesn't believe He's gone you know. He still has hope Harry will be found, and that he can save us from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named again."_

Harry closed the door and rubbed the scar hidden under his bangs. He had gotten it in the wreck that had killed his parents. Rubbing it was another tell that George liked to pick on him about. Harry suspected that it was really the reflection in his spectacles of his card hand that caused him to lose so often. Harry preferred LARPing and Role Playing Games. Perhaps he could be that '_Harry'_ they were looking for; it'd be easy for him, he loved Sci-fi and fantasy stories. As long as he didn't need to play card games, he'd have a lot of fun.

And he already had the right name. Harry smiled under his scarf. Wouldn't George be jealous -A possible role in a game was already waiting just for him to reach out and grasp it. Too bad he wasn't dressed up correctly for the game.

He left the doorstep and continued to bustle his way down the street. The cold winter breeze whipped up powdery snow from the ground, dispersing it into the air. Too bad it happened to make the air colder; Harry wasn't wearing the appropriate outdoor clothes as it was.

Out of an alley, a shabbily dressed man, much like Harry himself was, crashed into him. The both fell to the icy sidewalk.

"I am _so_ sorry! Pardon me! I'm late to a meeting. Here let me help you up," the mouse-haired man explained quickly, his gruesomely scratched up face starting to bleed a bit. The cuts looked to be at least a few days old. Harry wondered if he had stuck his head in a bag full of angry cats.

The man's eyes were an eerie amber; you didn't see that color in most city folk. He must be from the countryside.

Harry grabbed the man's out stretched hand, and was levered up from the ground with incredible speed. The guy must have been hiding muscles in his bones or something; to still look that thin and lanky.

"'Beg pardon, but I must be going!" the man nodded and strode down the street that Harry had come from.

"Harry! What are you doing over there?" An excited voice called out, as a stocky blond-haired boy exited the café a couple of doors down.

Harry lowered his scarf to his neck and replied while smiling happily, "Just getting into tussles with the local pavement! I swear it knows I'm not from around here!"

"Well then Potter, get your caboose in here! I'd like to see my best mate before I visit Germany with the student exchange program! I must be barmy, I don't know a lick of German; other than how to say 'gummy bears'. _Brrrr!_ _It's so bloody cold! _Meet you inside!" the sixteen-year-old shouted as he ducked back inside the warm café.

Harry laughed loudly before he rubbed his hands together as he made his way to the café. George had always been so exuberant and loud, Harry was thankful they had met and that they happened to be the same age. He couldn't have found a better friend.

He raised his encircled palms to his face and blew lightly in the concealed area, creating a small warm flame between his two palms. It was a talent he had never told anyone about.

The lightly glowing yellow flame danced between his bandaged up hands feeling like an application of IcyHot. The heat soaked into his hands and relieved a majority of pain; it left his hands feeling a bit tingly.

He might have gotten in a fight with Dudley again, but at least this time he gave as good as he had gotten.

Unfortunately, it had made him a bit homeless for the week before school started up again. It being Winter Break and all.

Harry paused on the threshold of the café and paused when the hairs on the back of his neck pricked up. Someone was watching him. He folded his palms inward and the the flame extinguished. Harry calmly lowered his hands to his sides. Quickly, he whipped his body around and clutched at the wall of the building. There, standing with the door held open to that cool little fantasy pub, was the man that had bumped into Harry earlier. Th man gazed at him with an unreadable face. Happy? Surprised? _Constipated?_

He did have some pretty cool contacts though. From where Harry stood, they looked like they were glowing gold. It was a sweet effect.

Harry shrugged and waved before he walked through the café doorway.

The man seemed pretty harmless; for all that he was ripped like a cougar.

_'I need to tell George about that pub, it would be terribly fun to visit together before he needs to leave! I think I'll dress as a paladin, George can be a mage for distance fighting!'_

Harry smiled as he located George who was beckoning him over to a booth.

He'd definitely need to check out the _Leaky Cauldron_ some day.

.

.

So this was just a sudden plot idea that wouldn't stop bugging me after I saw the AU challenge. It Has some potential to develop into into a full story; I will make it that way later. Or I might just use this as a prologue and write the main story under a separate title.

**Added note: As the feedback I have gotten on this story have asked for it to be continued; I've decided to move it up and post chapter Two by April 5th. So even though it is marked as complete (as of 3/27) it isn't finished just yet. I'll change it back to incomplete when that error thing gets fixed. Unless it happens to be finished by then. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the movies, games or books that are referenced.

Wow! Thanks guys for giving responses to this when it was a oneshot:** Rue-the-Marauder, Ducky Ninja Number Two, Val Malfoy at Pigfarts, Pwina, BabyCakes202, Qtelatino1, Risi. Thanks!**

.

.

**The Leaky Cauldron**

Part II: _The Werewolf Strikes Back_

.

.

"Doof doof argh! Weave my house 'Arry Potter and ne'er return! Dudley dinkums ga' a wittle boo-boos?" Harry barked out with his eyes crossed, as he flapped his arms about in an impression of Vernon Dursley.

George tended to wet his pants at Harry's Vernon Dursley– the lard-belly walrus.

The other boy cried hysterically at the scene; Harry attempted to shush him down but every time George looked at him the boy just laughed harder. Harry was having a tough time as he couldn't stop laughing either.

"Excuse me, but did I hear correctly earlier? Are you _Harry Potter?" _a hopeful and slightly familiar voice asked from behind the booth chair Harry sat at.

Harry turned in his seat, forgetting for a second about the pair of long crisps wedged under his upper lip like a pair of tusks. Drool dripped from his open mouth. Startled at the wetness on his trouser leg, Harry whipped out the potato wedges and ate them quickly, as he looked at the stranger.

Harry attempted his best innocent smile. George just laughed harder.

The stranger was the man he had run into before. His mouth twitched a bit at the corner and he murmured something about 'son's acting like their fathers.' Huh. Well that didn't fit Harry at all; he'd never known his father; and if this guy had just seriously compared him to Uncle Vernon, he was asking for a bloody lip. It was bad enough that there was Vernon spawn already on the planet.

Harry coughed a bit before he replied, "Er...Yeah, I'm Harry James _Potter_, who's asking?"

Wait. There was no way for this guy to have known that. Harry narrowed his eyes; the guy must have superhearing, if the bloke caught it from George.

The man's face lit and his eyes watered up. He looked like a younger man when he smiled. Harry felt a bit concerned; it was an odd way to react to such an ordinary name. Oh, man. This guy was probably a cop in disguise or something; unless the Dursleys were now paying the poor to whack him.

"Oh thank Merlin! I finally found you. Do you know how long I've searched?" the chap answered as he fell to his knees.

_ 'Oh, just Brill. This weirdo is taller than me kneeling when I'm in a chair. I've got to look into getting myself growth hormone pills or whatever, this is entirely uncalled for.'_

"Uh…No?"

"Help us Harry Potter. You are our only hope," there was light glowing in the man's amber eyes as they glistened. If Harry didn't know better, he would have thought this guy really believed what he had said.

Wow, this dude and those redheads were really into their game.

"Oh man, what does that make you Harry: Luke or Obi-Wan?" George snickered from his seat, face reaching the color of a ripe tomato.

_'Why am I the only one who draws people like this?'_ Harry had a vague recollection of a man bowing to him when he was younger, it rather upset the Dursley's and he had no supper that night.

"I can play tomorrow, but I'm kinda busy right now," Harry told the man before he kicked George in the shin.

"But Master Harry! The Rebel Force needs you _now!_ How else will they take down the Empire! Don't worry about little 'ole me, I'll be at the_Base" _George spoke up condescendingly as he rubbed his shin.

Harry reached across the table and pulled his laughing friend closer.

"_Stopit! _I've never seen this guy before today, the Dursley's might have called a hit on me or something! He might_ gank _me in an alley! I'm not going anywhere without you_!" _Harry whispered through gritted teeth_._

George looked the man up and down before rolling his eyes, "Honestly Harry, I'm disappointed. That's the best reason you have for saying 'no'? That the Dursley's are recruiting _hitmen_?"

George turned to the man and smiled, "I'm sorry, Mr... Whoever you are. But my pal here, isn't interested in playing today, he mentioned the Leaky Cauldron, yes? That little gamer's pub? I'll make sure he show up there sometime."

"No! You don't understand! They will _kill _you if they find you alone, this is not a game!_" _The man spoke loudly as he lurched forward and grabbed Harry's shoulder.

People in the nearby booths turned at the sound of the man's shout of denial, and watched as the scene unraveled. '_Vultures,_' Harry thought as he rolled his eyes at the unhelpful people in the cafe. You'd think they'd know a loony when they saw one. No help from the watchers.

"Listen, I understand that it's very important to you, but this is _not_ the way to find players. I'm sure, the orcs or the Empire can wait until tomorrow," Harry finished as he shook off the man's hand and turned back to the table.

"_Harry, _listen to me; you are the lost piece of the light side. We are already diminished as we hope our numbers have shrunk to a scattering of witches and wizards though out the isles. So many have already given up. You are the only one who can kill He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The prophecy was leaked a few years after His initial defeat. Dumbledore died, taking your whereabouts to the grave. If I can find you, the Sniffers probably can as well. When they find you, they will take you to Him and it won't be a pleasant death. When he gets you we have lost and the world will be consumed by darkness. He would use the muggles to build his new empire," the man stated as he slammed his hands on the table.

Harry and George both stared at him.

"Listen buddy, Harry said he'd join your little rebellion game tomorrow. So you are just going to have to wait until then, Darth Vader and the Emperor or no," George declared folding his arms across his chest.

"I don't know what you think I'm talking about, but I can assure you that everything I have spoken is the truth. My name is Remus Lupin an–"

"LUPIN! I KNEW I SMELLED YOU!" a voice howled from the front of the store as people? –Harry wasn't sure, jumped through the glass panes from outside.

Cold air swirled about as the largest hulking man-_thing _Harry had ever seen charged through the front door breaking it off.

"Damn, they were faster than I thought," Remus spoke as he looked about at all the screaming people, "they will be safe if we are seen leaving, c'mon! Before Fenrir sees!"

Remus grabbed the two boys and pushed them deeper into the café towards the bathrooms. Lupin took a peek behind himself before he shoved the boys through the first door.

"I'm in the girl's loo, and it wasn't even my own choice," George whispered in awe as he looked about the pink shaded room.

"Wait wha–?" Harry shrieked out as he panicked.

"Shush, I'll answer your questions later. You, George" he whispered hoarsely as he placed a hand across Harry's mouth, "head home when we distract them, anyplace I take him right now will draw attention those places don't need. We'll meet up later."

Harry found himself hoisted onto the older man's back. He squirmed about in confusion.

"WHAT THE HE–" his mouth continued to move, but no words were coming out.

Oh dear God, he was in a nightmare. A comic book inspired nightmare. There was no other reason for his inability to speak. There was no other logical– No, George was here, it was quite logical he'd wind up in the girl's loo at somepoint.

"I told you not to speak," Remus growled out as his voice became gravelly.

Crashes could be heard throughout the café, people were screaming and yelling. What the bloody hell was going on out there? Oh, God. What if it were ban –café robbers. Harry had the worst luck. As the body beneath him stiffened Harry idly wondered if George had dosed his tea with something. Like LSD.

It really seemed like a good explanation for the last ten minutes. Harry was pretty sure food poisoning didn't cause a person to hallucinate; though he did feel a bit green.

If push came to shove he did have some secret weapons, though. He was loath to do it in front of George and other people, but he was pretty handy when it came to fireballs and the like. He had practiced on the Dursley's back lawn when they weren't home a few summers ago.

"Hang on twoo maey neck," Remus grunted out, his voice distorted for some odd reason.

Harry complied with the LSD harbinger, he didn't want to make the crazy guy angry after all. He looked over at George, who face had gone mighty pale. He wondered if George had accidently dosed himself as well, and they were both sharing the same hocus-pocus head trip.

It certainly seemed so when the body beneath him swelled and sprouted dark grey furry ears. What the hell: acid trip! Bring on the changelings and the faeries, he was _ready! _Harry's head swayed to the side a bit; he felt kind of woozy.

Bad idea.

With his head at this angle, he could imagine that he understood what George saw in his drug induced hallucination.

Remus' face was covered in worms.

No, it was filled with them and they spread and wriggled about underneath the man's visible skin. The bottom portion of his face ballooned outward in the shape of a naked muzzle as his nose grew black as coal. Grey fur sprouted upward from the neck of his stretching shirt. Harry heard a crunch as Remus' chest deepened. His shoulders and biceps bulged as the sleeves of the robe ripped. The thin, patchy robe had become a cape.

That settled it.

He was going to_ kill _George after he regained consciousness._ Probably in an alley somewhere._

Harry had his hands wrapped around the thick fur covered neck of the Wolfman. Harry knew he would be writing on George's forehead in permanent marker the first chance he got. Then he would kill him, and leave the other boy to be found in the most embarrassing position possible.

_'I think a tutu dress with his neck festooned with a toilet seat might be enough. Possibly a drawn on mustache and monocle as well.' _

The snuffling noises where getting closer to the alcove they were in.

The creature beneath Harry snorted lightly, when the others began to bay. He wondered if the big guy could understand the smaller ones. Perhaps he was some sort of Greater Wolfman; he had to be twice as large as the lesser ones.

The Wolfman leaned forward slightly to accommodate Harry's weight. He had to be at least two and a half meters tall. If Harry reached a hand out, he could have rubbed the ceiling.

"FIND HIM! I KNOW HE'S HERE. SHOW YOURSELF REMUS, BEFORE I START KILLING THE WEE MUGGLES!" the same voice bellowed from the front. Remus nudged the bathroom door open and tilted his head to see out the crack.

The pack of creatures snarled as they caught his scent.

Remus roared.

He tore the bathroom door off its hinges and lobed it at the lesser wolves; the Wolfman would have doubled a score multiplier with the number he knocked out with it.

An extra hundred points should be given for his dispatch of the group with a girl's water closet door.

Not that Harry kept score or anything.

"Use a toilet next!" he mouthed soundlessly as his body bumped about on boney ridges as Remus dashed forward on all fours.

His large white paws pounded into his cousin species as he trampled forward towards the man waiting at the door.

The man smirked and raised his arms outward in a wrestling stance. LSD made Harry dream of loonies as well.

Remus accelerated his speed as warm pants of dog breath misted by Harry's face. Harry gripped his hand together tighter.

Obviously this was about to be a mini-boss fight. Harry hoped Remus' had a large number of full heart containers. Something told him this was going to hurt.

Hey! Heart containers! That's who that dude is! Gannondorf! Only more hideous and brown haired. Hair in other random places as well. The black and brown leather trench coat gave it all away. Thank the princess, this guy didn't have any huge swords. He could probably swing one about quite easily.

"He's going to morph into a boar! You've got this!" Harry screamed silently as he really got into this. He had a really cool perspective; they should make a game from behind the main character's shoulder. It would be wicked.

Oh. Nope. Harry was wrong. Gannondorf didn't change into a pig-beast.

He leapt at Harry and his furry ride, shredding clothes as his shape elongated and black fur sprayed out over his entire body. He was about the same size as Remus. The dark werewolf jumped once again; he had used the momentum of his first jump to bring him within a good attacking position.

Harry felt his arms grabbed as his grip was wrenched apart. He found himself thrown forward and cradled to a mesh covered furry torso as Remus dived down and flipped his body underneath the attacking beast. Rolling length wise over his shoulder, Remus flawlessly un-tucked into a two-legged, loping sprint and took off out the door less entrance. Harry couldn't see anything from his position but pavement and sidewalk.

Cars honked and people screamed.

Harry could just see tomorrow's front page of the Guardian, _'POOR STUDENT WAIF KIDNAPPED BY ROGUE WEREWOLF: A serious look into nuclear radiation' or__ 'BITS ON THE PAVEMENT: Watch out 'cause they might be pieces of Harry Potter'._

Harry felt himself get lifted once more. This time he found himself slung over the Wolfman's shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Or the next meal.

They were across the road now; with the other giant horror beasts just leaving the café, hot on their trail.

Oh dear Lord, Harry was flying.

"Oof," Harry mutely moaned as his creature ride smacked into the side of a wall. It must have preformed a leap attack on one of the buildings.

"Now's not the time to be playing with bricks Wolfie, your friends are coming and they don't look so happy," Harry intoned to himself as he smacked his hand into the creature's back in an attempt to make it run in a new direction.

Remus grunted as he dug his claws into the wall and started to climb. Brick dust dribbled from each claw hole he made in the building.

"Must go faster, must go _Faster!" _Harry silently chanted as they reached the fourth story. The blood was rushing to Harry's face, he felt sick again.

The large bad-guy wolf below roared at his minions. They began to pile themselves next to the wall.

Bloody… that way seemed much faster.

Remus levered himself up just in the nick of time, his back paw lifted up just as the beast below attempted to grab it.

Harry's werewolf ride grabbed the snout of the monster whose head appeared over the wall and rammed it into the concrete ledge before pushing him outward.

And then the Wolfman that carried him was off.

Remus sprinted and vaulted across the roof tops. The snow filled clouds turned darker as the sun dipped below the horizon.

It was freezing cold. He was kidnapped by a werewolf. His body would probably be found gnawed on in an alley somewhere tomorrow.

Harry blamed this _all_ on George.

.

.

So as I've decided to put this story ahead of a few different ones that I'm working on, due to the feedback I've gotten.

I originally had a question here, but it was answered well enough that I've taken it down.

R/R please!


	3. Chapter 3

**The Leaky Cauldron**

_Part III:_ _Beware of Dog_

.

.

Harry found himself outside a dark ramshackle cottage in the dark early hours of the morning. The shingles hung loosely from the roof and paint peeled off the doors and windows. A dog barked inside. The werewolf had let him down and now the two of them were standing on a doormat that said Welcome Home. Harry figured that the doormat must have been made extra large just for his huge hulking pal.

"So… do I ring the doorbell or what?"

He grunted then made a show of putting his massive fore paw on the door. Harry shrugged and did it as well. If he was going to be eaten, he'd rather it happened inside where it was warm. The door pulsed with an eerie light.

"Speak Friend and enter, huh?"

The giant bipedal wolf cocked his head to the side and huffed. A string of drool dripped from the side of his closed mouth. It stared at him with glowing golden eyes. Harry figured Remus was waiting for him to make the first move. He placed one worn trainer in the doorway of the home. He peeked over at the wolf. It nodded it's head enthusiastically, flinging drool and spittle all about. Harry continued through the doorway and into the dark hall. It was better than the Dursleys at least. At the sound of a wooden like groan Harry turned around.

He was a bit unprepared for the sight of the werewolf stuck in the frame of the door. Harry broke down in the middle of the hallway when it moaned piteously. His laughter became hysterical as he fell in the middle of the hallway, body shaking.

The dog barks that came from deeper in the house rose to a frenzied pitch.

The door frame continued to groan. When it stopped, Harry felt himself nudged, before he felt himself pushed back, deeper into the dark cottage. The adrenaline had run out leaving him with shakes that rocked through his entire torso.

He was pushed once more.

"Okay, o-okay," Harry muttered as he rose on wobbly legs.

The huge wolf nudged him once more and almost sent him sprawling. The darkness was more than just night time. The windows must have been boarded up or blocked out with sheets. It could have been the Mines of Moria if it weren't for the carpet fibers.

He felt himself be pushed into a soft mass, and then he knew no more.

.

.

"Pancakes?"

"Wha?" Harry moaned. Slivers of green peaked out beneath his eyelids before his eyes shut tightly against the barrage of bright morning light; his head ached slightly.

"Would you like pancakes? Your breathing changed; I figured you were waking up." The kind male voice asked once more from the other room.

Harry's eyes jerked wide open. The warm blanket was pushed aside as he sat up quickly, too quickly for his head, he winced as an ephemeral mallet continued to smack against his skull. The sweet scent of bacon drifted into what was a tiny living room. Light poured in from a window he recalled boarded up the night before.

Pork sizzled in the kitchen to his left, a brown haired man in a slightly dingy apron tended to it with the precision of an amateur chef.

Harry's head slowly moved left and right as he took in the room around him.

Small furnishings.

Old looking ones that were well maintained.

Whoever lived here stretched his money out as far as possible. Small moving baubles lined a shelf; he ignored those for now as he took in the meticulous order of the books next to them.

No clutter anywhere in the sparse living room; the mostly empty room was still able to exude a warm and inviting atmosphere. The owner must have worked hard to achieve that with what was available; Harry decided he liked this person.

When the pounding between his ears grew faint, he got up off the couch and stretched – pausing only to notice his shoes were missing.

He moved silently to the kitchen in an attempt to better study the man who had his back to him.

"Pancakes are up, bacon is finished as well. Harry, take a seat at the table over there." The man pointed toward the worn table shoved up against a side wall, without turning around. Odd. Few had ever been able to catch him when he focused on being silent and unnoticeable.

"Who are you?" This wouldn't be the first time he had slept in stranger's house, not that Harry did that often, but if he ever did end up in a bad situation, Harry had back up. In the form of his fists clutching two balls of fire. He took a cautious seat at the table- the spot against the wall, facing the stranger.

Harry's question went unanswered and he fidgeted a bit in the unfamiliar place, feeling like an accidental interloper.

The cook soon came over with a large plate laden with pancakes and bacon and another, a smaller one fit for one normal person.

Harry was able to get a good look at the man's face and was surprised such a kindly looking man could have so many hair then scars, like a large number of half healed paper cuts – if he was using his face to turn the page.

The man's eyes were unique, and Harry bet the cook had gotten his cheek pinched by old ladies often as a child.

Harry sipped automatically at the cup of tea placed in front of him. His eyebrows rose at the smooth taste and flavor; his esteem for the normal looking scarred man rose as well. Money was spent where it counted.

The breakfast cook took a seat.

"Remus Lupin, remember? Sorry about last night–"

Harry put the cup down. "No, no. It is I who should be sorry. I must have been wacked out of my mind last night, sir – Mr. Lupin. Thank you for giving me a place to stay. I've got a friend I need to get back at for slipping something into my drink last night." Harry took another sip of tea. "This is an expensive blend; I'll reimburse you for breakfast and the night on your sofa – do you have a phone?"

Lupin leaned back, confusion drifting across his face. He shook his head, and Harry noticed an interesting glimmer beneath the collar of Lupin's shirt. The man was wearing a necklace of some sort, Harry suspected, but it seemed like something that didn't fit with Lupin's other things at all. Like needless glamour for a man that led a Spartan style life. It must be important.

"No no! You don't need to pay. Harry? Are you okay?"

Harry's head felt like it was full of cotton something didn't fit right with what he knew.

"Yes, why?" The room seemed to be getting hotter, but it wasn't his house and it wasn't polite to ask for it to be lowered.

"–His enforcers found us much faster than I expected…Are you sure you are okay?"

"Where is G– where am I, again?" Harry rubbed his forehead.

"I can't tell you that yet. But you are safe and that is what counts."

"The police were after me, again?"

Lupin looked affronted at the idea of being chased by the fuzz; Harry had some dealings with them in the past, this wouldn't be the first time if they had chased him into a stranger's cottage. The massive plate seemed a bit emptier than before.

_Oh. That was because Remus was literally inhaling it, taking large bites in between speaking._

"Harry, last night I found you before Fenrir and his werewolf patrol attacked us in a cafe near Diagon Alley. Things got a little sticky, but we made it out alive." Lupin shrugged and took another bit of bacon.

"Werewolves." Harry said nonplussed.

The man looked over at him with the fork half raised to his mouth. His eyes flickered a bit as he ate the pancakes and before his head turned away.

_Oh. That's right._

Harry's face warmed and he fumbled trying to get to his feet.

"Y-you're a –" He crashed hard back into his seat. Lupin folded his hands as he stared at the boy across the table.

"A werewolf, yes. You are currently at one of our safe houses. This one happened to be conveniently outside the city. I spent most of last night running near water; we should not have been followed." The werewolf across the table said.

Harry looked about in dazed confusion. His hand inched toward the knife next to his plate.

"I don't understand."

Remus sighed, "I knew it would be too much to expect, but I had hoped you at least had an idea of what was going on. What do you know of magic, Harry?"

"It-it's not real. Magic is – it's make believe." Lie. Lie like your pants were on fire.

"What have they done? Listen to me: magic is real. Werewolves are real. Harry, you're one of us." The werewolf said, deftly maneuvering the knife out of reach.

"No! I'd know if I was a werewolf!"

"Not a werewolf Harry. A wizard," Remus stated pulling out a highly polished dowel and shifting it awkwardly between his hands, "have you ever done something different? Something you couldn't explain?"

Oh, there was so much Harry couldn't explain, pyrokinesis not included. Harry had kept ice in his pockets when he was twelve; he had an odd notion that he was the lost child of the Human Torch. Harry didn't want to burst into flame again. That had gotten him into a bunch of trouble at St. Brutus' when his bed had exploded.

"Ah. Something happened. I can tell," Remus smiled.

"You aren't getting anything from me." Harry crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair.

"Harry. I just want to help you. Let me?"

Harry conceded the point that he had helped so far. The wolfman had also not eaten him, so that seemed like a good sign.

He mulled his options in his head silently, Harry was reluctant to give this man any leverage to use against him, but there were a few things he would have liked to know.

"Maybe… does teleporting to the roof when chased by bullies count?"

"Teleport? Yes! You must have apperated. I told you! You are a wizard."

"Wizard?" Harry mumbled, still unsure why a wizard would be a teleporter. Harry hadn't cast a spell.

"I don't use a wand or cast spells. Wouldn't I be termed a mage or sorcerer instead?" Harry pointed out. Inside his head he was screaming. This was not something he ever expected to talk out loud about.

"Semantics. You are a magic user."

"Are there elemental wizards then?" Harry was pretty good with fire; it had been a useful tool in school. A small flame here or there. An indiscrete flame melting a bully's prized collection of tin figures. Harry was mostly left alone.

"Some spells yes. Ones that shoot water or fire. Not many though." The werewolf ate his last pancake.

Harry frowned. _That's a disappointment._

"Hm. I still think the correct term would be mage though."

"You'll understand when we get you a wand," Remus sighed. His ear twitched and Harry realized he had been ignoring a steady stream of barking coming behind a closed door.

"Stupid mutt," Remus whispered before focusing on Harry. "I think there are some spare wands at headquarters, you just need something that you will be able to work with after all."

A loud mournful howl drifted into the kitchen.

"Yes… he'll want to meet you. I'll be right back." Remus pushed the chair out and left. Harry could hear a door slam against a wall.

"Who would want to meet me?" The boy sitting at the table asked out loud.

"Settle down Paddy! Settle!" Remus entered the room restraining a black dog hairier than a wookie.

"Harry, this is Padfoot. Padfoot, Harry." The dog gave a happy yap, and Harry found himself with a lap full of squirming dirty dog, who took the moments in between wiping Harry's face to devour what was left on his plate.

Harry pushed the dog out of his lap and prepared for another wet assault by the brute's tongue, when the dog sat on the floor polite as he pleased.

"Uhm, pleased to meet you Mr. Dog." Harry raised an eyebrow as the dog wriggled and ignored him and scratched an ear. He looked up at the apologetic werewolf. "Do you often talk to your pets?"

"He was a human once. Your godfather actually; Sirius Black." A deep self-hate and sadness seeped into Remus Lupin's voice.

"But he's a dog now?" Harry's eyebrow raised. The large dog squirmed in a happy circle.

"He could always become a dog. Well, since school. He was obliviated in this form. We aren't sure how much he understands; people, places, _things_? We don't know. I-I've kept him with me. I think he has some memory of me." Remus reached down and scratched the dog's itchy head while the canine's tongue lolled out in ecstasy.

"So he lost his mind and is stuck as a dog?" The dog's tail wagged. Remus grabbed a jar near the stove and tossed some treats at the dog. They were snapped up with speed before even touching the floor.

"Close enough for now I suppose. The only thing we know for sure is that he thinks he's a dog."

"How do you figure that?" The dog began to bite at the fur on its back.

"A spell. Animagus Revelio. When cast on someone who is in animal form, it causes the person to become human once more. It didn't work. He seems to remember you in some way though." Remus said as the dog draped himself on Harry's feet.

.

.

"What have you learned Dorothy?" Harry questioned the form in the mirror as he splashed water on his face. He rested his hands on the curve of the sink. Water slowly dripped down his face as he stared dully into his reflection.

People could change into animals.

Werewolves were real.

And the big one that would have given his Uncle a conniption: Magic existed.

He released the edges of the porcelain sink. His hands were white; Harry flexed them in an attempt to loosen them.

_Guess I'm not as special as I thought. Maybe I don't need to hide everything anymore._

Harry ran a hand through his dusty wet hair.

"Well, I shouldn't be too surprised. I've done some pretty weird things. Someone else in the world would have had to do it too."

He passed warmth though his hand drying his hair instantaneously.

"Right. I like weird things! This should be fun." He grinned at the image of himself in the mirror.

"Remus, what's the plan?"Harry said as he opened the door, valiantly fighting off the black furry canine before giving in to Padfoot's saliva attack.

"Plan? To eventually meet up with the Rebellion of course."

"Where's that at?" Harry wiped dog slobber onto his pants.

"Hidden in plain sight… under the Leaky Cauldron of course." Remus laughed happily.

* * *

_TBC_

**A/N**: Long time in updating, I know. I've been pretty distracted by everything been sent my way; from the internet to Skyrim. A plus though, is that this is my good friend's favorite, so it will always be up and written for albeit a bit slowly.  
One of those things that I found pretty distracting is an act waiting to be denied/passed by Congress. It will destroy sites that use content created by users. Facebook, Google, Reddit, Youtube and most likely this very site are in danger of being hindered or censored from use in an attempt to remove online piracy. Whether or not you disapprove of piracy, allowing site owners to be sued because of what one person posts is idiotic.

This kills the internet.

Look up information about **SOPA** – the world will become a bland place if we allow it to pass.  
Thanks for reading, please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

.

.

**The Leaky Cauldron**

_Part IV: Tree full of loot_

.

.

"So why are we coming out here again? I thought we were leaving." Harry's breaths came out puffs; the hill behind Remus' house was taller than it appeared and the encrusted snow on the ground quickly depleted his stamina.

"We aren't prepared yet." The man in front of him called over his shoulder. He paced robustly through the snow plowing something of a walkway with his body. Harry was slightly jealous at his physical ability before remembering the odd quirk Remus had. Harry promised himself that he was not jealous of a man that could change his form at will.

"Really? Can't we just call a cab? A bus?" He huffed out picking up the pace.

"Nope the knight bus is under watch of the Death Eaters."

A bunch of grim reapers liked to stake out the public transport system. "Okay. A cab, then?"

"I really don't want to involve too many muggles in this Harry. I'm still not sure what to do with your friend." Remus stated as he stopped in front of a scenic looking tree at the top of the hill. It could have been planted only for photo shoots and in the crisp afternoon frost was evaporating off its branches in the sunlight.

"Hey!" Harry spoke up in defense, "George has always stuck with me! He's an honorable guy. Besides – he's probably interested as hell."

_He did see a guy become a wolfman close up in a bathroom after all._

Remus sighed.

"It's not that Harry. It will be extremely dangerous for him. Muggles are no longer treated very well by our kind. New world order and all." He said bitterly; Harry's brow furrowed at the tone.

He searched for the words to adequately form a good question – when he opened his mouth he was only able to question the obvious.

"Bad guys?"

Remus eyed him blankly before turning to inspect the bark of the tree.

"Very bad guys – wizards to be exact. They kill people for fun. Everyone is afraid; and the only people they'd think twice about killing are pure bloods."

Harry put his arms around his back as he wrapped his mind around that. It seemed strange to him that such a small population, or what he assumed would be a small population, would work against each other and effectively destroy their numbers. It was amazing that fighting seemed to be happening underneath the relative peace normal people had been enjoying for half a century.

"Pure?"

"Full blooded wizard lines with no crosses between muggles – er, non-magical people."

"Are there many pure blooded wizards keeping you all in check?"

"No. But they have the greatest evil to walk on their side."

_That doesn't sound good._

"Ah. So why am I necessary again?" Harry said. He held his breath, he had a suspicion that everything would soon be pinned on him and he would need to save the world. It was a dream really, he had had over the years; just like anyone else who grew up with a large dose of fantasizing and video games.

"Harry, you've defeated the Dark Lord once before and well we – that is, everyone who is standing up to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were hoping you could do it again."

The werewolf lifted a piece of bark like a switch and the side of the tree began to rumble.

_Damn it._ Was his first reaction.

"Wow." Harry said nonplussed. No extra lives. No save points. No pretty girl at the end.

He was probably going to die.

"When did I pull that win? I don't remember doing that, or defeating anything I would call a Dark Lord. I did punch a kid in the face once on accident though." Harry stated before mumbling at the end.

"You weren't out of your toddler years yet. Your parents died that night." Remus said as if that helped answer anything.

Layers of wood appeared to be pealing back from the tree.

"Hm. Remus? If a toddler could beat him, why haven't any of you?"

"There is something keeping him tied to this world; our past leader of the Order knew that. We think he began to take steps to deal with those somethings. Dumbledore died in the spring of 1990 in Albania. We haven't been the same since. The fall of Hogwarts a few years ago made it that much harder." Remus said with no emotion in his voice.

The tree stopped warping revealing a stone platform at its base. Glowing blue lines on the inside of the cored out tree pulsed with light and life.

_Whoa. It's like Narnia._

"It's how we lost you, you know." The werewolf whispered as he leaned onto the open side of the tree as if weary with the harshness of the world.

"I wasn't lost!" Harry's shout echoed in the silence. A bird darted through the clear blue sky and Harry's vehement denial. The Dursleys should have been his family. They should have loved him.

Remus opened his eyes and to Harry they seemed wetter than before.

"To us you were. Dumbledore had you somewhere safe and secure – but he disappeared the spring before what would have been your first year at Hogwarts. Only two others knew of where you were: one oath-bound from naming it or going there, the other dealing with a sudden change to Headmistress and partial leader for the order."

"She thought it best to keep you there – dark powers were on the rise." He whispered. Almost to quiet for Harry to hear. The snow on the ground muffled all sounds; they seemed encased in a bubble untouched by the world.

"So rather than knocking on my door, you stalked me to a café?" Harry asked after heating his hands, the normal way by rubbing them together quickly. If they stood out here much longer he'd have to light a small fire. It was quite chilly.

"No. Hagrid was sent to an internment camp for being an abomination when the world flipped over later that year. He is believed dead. McGonagall spent one year as headmistress before the coo happened and she was murdered in her office while protecting a student."

"So… bad times from then to the present?" Harry asked, sure this was the case.

Remus chuckled bitterly. "A few years back we learned that if things get bad, they will always get worse."

He walked into the tree and stood on the stone platform that dipped a bit when he stepped onto it.

" But – every once in a while you find something of, a silver lining." Remus' smile was full of teeth.

The werewolf motioned for Harry to stand next to him. Harry hesitated and then shrugged. It was already too late – he was heading down the rabbit whole one way or another. He only hopped the last act didn't end with his death.

.

The platform lowered deep into the hill into what must have been a supernatural preparedness bunker. The walls gave off more of that strange blue glow illuminating strange gadgetry alongside boxes of bottled water and jarred food that seemed to move.

Remus silently moved through the items amassed to the door of what looked like a shack in the middle of a glowing cave. Harry found it hard to keep up when things seemed to move out of the corners of his eyes. He shivered when a glass jar filled with blinking eyes followed his movement.

The werewolf stiffly opened the door and took a deep breath.

Walking into the shack Harry was able to tell one thing from the look on Lupin's face and he wasn't sure if it was one he liked. Everyone has a side they never show and the fierce yellowness, almost savage shine lying in Remus' eyes made him wonder if Lupin was ever only himself or if the wolf lurked just beneath the surface savage and hungry for war.

Chills ran up Harry's spine as he looked around the room.

It was a room stocked from head to two with weapons sharpened and ready to deal massive trauma. It was a room filled with the prerequisites to medieval war.

Either Remus was prepared for everything or he was planning on moonlighting as a vigilante in the near future; Harry was standing in the middle of a bunker that could easily be confused with the Bat cave, if Batman was a hunter and killer of evil. With a closet full of various battle ready swords.

Some of the blades hanging from the wall looked wicked sharp; and the worn leather handles stained darker in some areas suggested some moderate uses.

"Here." A scabbard weighing a couple pounds filled with steel was lightly tossed toward him and he almost dropped it.

He had never touched one in real life, and while he might have fantasized being somebody's hero and savior, Harry wouldn't have even known what to do with one other than wave it around in a circle like a lunatic.

"Uh Remus? That's a sword. I don't think I can just carry one around the streets of London and the residential areas of Surrey." _Dudley would piss his pants, for sure._

"You are going to need something to protect yourself or than just a wand." The werewolf said as he inspected a series of swords that seemed almost as long as he was tall.

Remus held a sword aloft in the light and Harry snickered a bit; in the light Remus' pale tan shirt looked green in the blue luminescent light. Amusedly, Harry wondered if an annoying fairy counterpart would show up soon; it seemed as if after having magic seriously confirmed it seemed to spring from the woodwork in an absurd number.

Nodding in satisfaction with the sword that was over four feet long the taller man sheathed it in a scabbard connected to two straps and grabbed a dusty bag from the floor.

Ears hanging on strings were grabbed off the walls along with dried herbs and stuffed in to the bag.

_ I don't want to know why he has chopped of ears on the wall._

Remus pulled open a drawer and leaned over it, exposing the lightly glowing neck band while muttering and pawing through its contents.

Harry itched to ask him what the band meant. He wanted to know if it was a wizard thing and Harry should find his own appropriately glowing item to wear – or if it was a werewolf thing. And had some religious connotation involving the moon.

"…And here." Harry was startled out of his thoughts when a stick was thrust in his face.

"Say lumos while envisioning it glowing. An easy spell. Of course, this wand wasn't matched to you, but something is better than nothing even if it matches you so bad you end up with capricious spells."

"Okay." Harry focused intently on the end of the wand and gave it a flick to feel the slight weight of power that it seemed to hold.

"Well? Give it a go."

"Lumos." A faint light appeared at the end, not even as good as he could do normally. Harry was disappointed in the wand. It didn't seem to augment his natural abilities at all.

"Not what I would have hoped for, but at least it's something."

Remus turned his back and resumed stuffing items into the bag; Harry was surprised it hadn't burst yet.

He lit up the tip of his finger just for fun and was bemused to find it much brighter than the wand, like a light visible through clear water rather than murky with low battery power.

"That's better, keep practicing."

Harry looked over at the preoccupied werewolf and shrugged. The wand was quickly pocketed – Harry was pretty sure he wasn't going to need it, and the sword –

"If you gave me a wand, then why do I need a sword? I'm not really built for it you know, and I am apparently a wizard, so I shouldn't let monsters get close to me."

Remus gave him a hard look and Harry backed up a foot breath held in until the man's wild eyes lost their supernatural glow.

"It's better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. The blade edge is silver." Remus said. He removed the massive blade he had left on the table and angled it in the light.

Harry pushed his glasses up higher on his nose and squinted at the edge of the blade. There was some sort of dullness in the metal at the edges. Remus quickly returned the blade to its home and Harry realized that he seemed to be keeping clear of the sharp edges, only handling them with handkerchief covered hand.

Weaknesses made popular by movies weren't as false as he had originally assumed.

He kept his mouth closed when Remus swung the scabbard over his shoulder like an errant child and turned back to the door, face filled with grim determination.

Harry wondered at the damage it could cause if a werewolf was prepping to use it against its own kind.

Remus caught him staring and said in all seriousness, "Sometimes even school teachers are forced to go to war, and I will fight for my freedom."

Harry knew then that there would be no return his typical ordinary days.

.

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: Read and and review, please!

**.**

**.**

**The Leaky Cauldron **

_V: The Dark Side_

.

.

In a castle far away from Harry and Remus, a king sat on his throne watching students quietly eating their supper. His hands rested along the black hardwood rest, a large snake curled at his feet as he observed the four tables down below in front of him. The only one making any sort of noise was filled to the brim with students of every age. The two tables perpendicular to the front two, were losing students by the minute.

_Why even have four?_ Two were all that was necessary really. Gryffindor was bound to be swallowed up by what was left of Hufflepuff soon.

Another Hufflepuff. The student in red and gold sat in dismay as the colors muted into yellow and black.

He had thought long and hard about keeping Ravenclaw; but the separation lines between Slytherin and Ravenclaw were murky. Why split the best students up? The two shared several distinct characteristics that weren't as favored by the other two houses. Power was the only thing that mattered; through book smarts or political cunning, it didn't matter. The majority of the students in either one of these houses had traits he favored compared to the central focus on brashness and friendship.

Hard work wasn't enough it you didn't have the innate drive and intelligence.

The pale skinned-man blinked as a red-headed Gryffindor was declared a Slytherin. The first to make the ultimate switch. The young girl walked in silence to her new table as her rampant lion insignia morphed into that of Slytherin's.

The Dark Lord clapped in the silence, others quick to follow their leader joined in.

It was interesting that the Hat found her worthy of Slytherin. He would have to have her put under watch. She was after all, the first Slytherin Weasley in over a century. A gem amongst a pile of rebellious rats.

At Hogwarts she would be nurtured into a boon for society, unlike the rest of those riffraff that became traitors to their own kind. Veritaserum had made sure she was not with them or even aware of the newest hideout for the Order.

Those strong enough in the weaker house would be given the chance to join the ranks of the Weres; something many would latch onto. The wolves favored ties to the pack. That was close enough to friendship. They could also be very stupid and suicidal. Perfect for the switch-overs from Gryffindor.

A slight buzzing sensation in his mind let him know that the castle had an unwelcomed visitor running on all fours toward the main entry way. A deep breath and a blink was all he needed to welcome his guest; the doors opened under the power of his will. And the werewolf shifted in a dark shadowy alcove before speaking with one of the guards.

"My Lord, Fenrir Greyback is here to see you. He requests an audience at the quickest available time." One of the black robed men said as he approached his king. He kneeled down at the foot of the throne and extended his left wrist toward his king revealing the Dark Mark.

The edge of Voldemort's mouth twitched downward at the interruption. In front of him, another child sorted into Slytherin. Three more re-sorts were left and then he would be giving a short speech.

"I will be in my office. Send him up in twenty minutes." Voldemort finished with a slight raise of his hand. The guard nodded and backed off quickly.

Bleary eyed Slughorn called the next student forth for his sorting.

.

"My Lord, we've found him." The fleabag grinned as the door slammed into the wall, he was unable to contain his excitement.

Voldemort folded his fingers together and withheld all emotion from his face. It was the best way to deal with Greyback. When the wolf was unable to read someone he was far more compliant in his anxiety to please his only master.

"You've…found who?" Voldemort asked calmly.

"Harry Potter my Lord. With the renegade –Remus Lupin." Fenrir grinned through a mouth full of sharp teeth.

The Dark Lord frowned and stood up intent on studying the window. His eyes clouded over with swirling emotions. He hated new nuisances. Every bone in his body screamed fake and he rubbed the course ebony hair on the side of his head.

It had to be fake. Potter was dead. A decade and a half of rumors leading to dead ends chased down by his servants. No one believed that he had actually survived. The common conclusion among his subjects was that they were lied to all those years ago – No boy could survive a killing curse. Even so, it had taken quite awhile for his Death Eaters to sow dissention in the ranks of the Ministry. The story became nothing but a fable made by those who disagreed with the new monarch.

If this was true, well - somebody would soon be dead. And not by the killing curse, that was too humane.

Voldemort calmly snatched up his goblet and took a sip of the defiled unicorn draught that had been brought up to his office mere moments before the wolf had broken down the door.

"Show me." Voldemort commanded, tinges of annoyance starting to beat up into anger.

Greyback dropped to one knee, lowering his head. A harsh poke later and Voldemort had the scene safely bottled and ready for viewing. As if on cue, a black marble bowl floated over to the desk dropping gently beside the silver goblet.

He swirled the bottle before splashing it gently into the bowl – quicksilver and ink reflecting small images of the memory.

Voldemort gestured his wolf commander toward the bowl; he would need a guide. Greyback had a notoriously befuddling way of looking at the world – and it would be useful for the beast to see where he went wrong.

Perhaps Fenrir would learn something.

.

.

"I just don't know why I've been called, unlike you, I've done nothing wrong. I've followed the Dark Lord's orders to a _T_." The blonde lithe Slytherin flittered around her bedpost a tight ball of distress.

"Daph, do stop worrying. Perhaps he wishes to congratulate you on what happened over the summer?" Astoria said from the bed. She tittered lightly behind pale fingers at her sister's antics.

"Story, why would I be honored for that? I did the same as our parents. Besides, if it was that they should have done it after it happened not half a year later." She grabbed a brush; a few hairs were out of place.

Stroke, stroke, _snag_, pull, stroke.

"Daphne! It's not every day purebloods are attacked in their homes! You fought back and scored a hit!" Astoria shouted in amazed bewilderment.

Daphne frowned as she recalled that horrid night. Father shouting, the house burning, her wand - tingling in her hand. Her father, lying dead in the doorway with a phoenix feather, calling card of those fear mongers, dropping down toward his chest. The shadow walking away and the furious spell passing between her lips.

She felt ill just recalling it.

"Oh Story. I felt so sick to myself when I found that eye on the ground." When the sun had come up, the damage to their home could be seen. Among the ruins of the courtyard, her father's killer had left behind a part of himself.

"So gross! But you're amazing sister! I wouldn't have been able to do it!"

"I was so happy you weren't there little sister. We…I might have lost you too. The mudbloods and those who side with them are incorrigible – they are tearing our society apart."Daphne said in a low voice filled with emotion. She clutched her wand tightly.

"I just wish they'd all die – or go away somewhere. Far away." Astoria said flippantly. Daphne sighed. While it was all well and good that her sister's innocence was preserved, Daphne felt more alone in the world. Five hours was all it took for her entire world to flip. Nothing had been the same since summer.

"Yes –"A knock at the door.

"Miss Greengrass? I am here to take you up to the Headmaster's office." The Slytherin house head stood in the doorway.

"Coming Mrs. Lestrange." Daphne answered. She smoothed out the edge of her robes and followed the retreating black garbed professor.

"Farewell sister! It will be good news. I just know it." Her sister called out optimistically.

"Astoria Greengrass, do not forget to visit the common room the new students should be made at home in their new lair." The professor grinned darkly.

With her back straight, and all her fears pushed to the back of her mind, Daphne moved ever closer to a future that would change her world once more.

.

.

"My Lord. Please. Let me find them; let me do it for you! I will slaughter them in your name! I swear it!" The werewolf rumbled after the memory was played. The Dark Lord had remained stoic as it had ran frowning only when he had paused it to examine the face of the teen being carried off.

After viewing it, the conqueror took a seat at his desk. The Were leader twitched as Voldemort, hopefully, contemplated his plea.

"I've heard this too many times before Greyback, and yet that mongrel Order member always slips through your claws. You are getting to be very…irritating." The grimy wolf in man's clothing backed up and hunkered under the dark stare. He ducked his eyes to the floor.

"He has a weakling with him now. The boy will slow him down. He had to be muggle raised in the very least." Fenrir growled to the legs of the desk.

"That matters not. If he can still put up a fight in the barest way, he is still fit for the prophecy." The Dark Lord stood up and played with a trinket on the shelf. "I will not be killed by some mote of dust," Voldemort said voice promising pain.

"I will bring him to you." The werewolf shouted gleefully, scarred face pulling up into cruel grimace.

"No, you incompetent cur. You have failed me for the last time."

"I only wish to serve you! I will not fail you in this."

"You are fit only to serve aren't you?" The Dark Lord mused. With eyes still down on the floor boards the werewolf nodded.

"And like a dumb animal you make mistakes?"

Fenrir gulped.

The werewolf groveled, "Yes, my Lord."

"Where is you second?" The sickening whisper drifted across the room. Fenrir knew that he was about to be given a harsh lesson about life and failure. One he had hoped to avoid for a few more years.

"I –"

"Bring him in here. Now."

Fenrir Greyback walked silently over to the door, keeping his golden gaze lower than that of his Master's. He rumbled lowly in his throat as he quietly conversed with the beast outside his door.

Rangnulf would be a good leader to the back. They had worked together in the early days slaughtering those who said a word against them as Voldemort began his first rise to power. Like a brother, his beta was - hulking covered in scars the two had skirmished in. A false eye, a color off when Rangnulf was in beast form removed his depth of view, but sight mattered little when he was enraged. A war wound given just as a mission completed this past summer.

"So… you follow your lead wolf and obey his orders do you not?" Voldemort challenged the black-haired werewolf as he kneeled on the floor. Fenrir's second nodded confidently.

"And you understand that he is under my command yes? That I allow you to make your kills – I let you take in more to swell your numbers? That I have given you wolves a better position in this world, my left hand shrouded in the guise of tameness that I unleash on my enemies?" The Dark Lord questioned of the man.

Rangnulf looked over at Fenrir.

"Don't look at him. Look at me. I am his alpha." Voldemort whipped out his wand.

"Yes." Fenrir's beta answered gruffly.

"Good. Extend your wrist."

Rangnulf hesitated; he quickly looked over to Greyback before looking back at the floor.

"I own you wolf. Do it. Now." He pressed the wand tip to the brutish man's head. Rangnulf extended his wrists.

Voldemort quickly ran the tip of his wand across the throat of the distracted werewolf, blood spewing out as if it had been sliced by a knife. Fenrir's second spasmed and tried to cover the wound, black red blood spewed from between his fingers as he bled out and choked.

Fenrir Greyback watched as the lifeblood of his pack brother bled out onto the floor soaking into the rug beneath the table.

"This would have been you if I didn't have to spend time raising a new leader from that pack of dogs. It would take too long." Voldemort said cruelly as he wiped the tip of his wand.

Fenrir stared at the dead body.

"This will be you the next time you fail."

The last living Were in the room nodded slowly.

"I understand, my Lord. But if I am not to hunt the boy – who?" Rage flashed in his eyes. Voldemort smiled at the monster full of rage. Fenrir was ready to twist tables and stone - whether because of his dead comrade or his failure to kill his rival enemy was not known.

"I did not say you would not get your chance – but I reside in what was once only a school, the home of teachers and learning. I do consider myself a professor, of sorts. The next generation is growing fast, I want those I favor to be given every chance to prove to me they are capable."

"You are sending a brat out to do a man's work?" The wolf leader growled, ignoring the blood lapping underfoot.

"I am sending a brat out to do a_ wolf's_ work." Voldemort replied darkly. He flicked his wand harshly over the dead body. The corpse on the ground shrank to the form of a small, dead mouse. The Dark Lord clicked his tongue lightly and hissed. A small snake, normal sized compared to his usual companion, slithered out from beneath a crack in the stone. It eagerly swallowed the dead mouse.

Fenrir watched it slither away with a fierce loathing burning like coals in his eyes. The fallen warrior would receive no rites after death without his body.

A knock at the door startled his thinking though the Dark Lord looked as if he were expecting company. A skinny blonde waif of a girl walked in with confidence shrouding her form. It did nothing to hide the fear-smell emanating from her body.

"My Lord. You called upon me?"

"Yes…Daphne Greengrass. You found yourself fighting for your life against Order members this past summer, did you not?" He sat back down behind the desk a powerful prescience with claws reigned in. Fenrir stood at the side of the desk a pot of boiling rage on the cusp of flowing over the ledge.

"Yes. My Lord." She replied tersely.

"And they killed your father?"

She nodded with water filled eyes.

"A problem has come to my attention," Voldemort briskly said. He leaned forward and brought out a map and some sheets of scribbled on parchment.

"What sort of problem?"She asked, curiosity brimming in her expressive eyes as she unconsciously mirrored his movements. When he palmed a roll of paper briefly showing her the familiar wanted sign for Phoenix Members she tucked a lock of hair behind an ear. She frowned.

"One dealing with members of that infernal order. I hear they plan on striking against other families soon, now that they have a weapon that they believe will defeat me." He nearly hissed his frustration as he pointed to a few spots on the map that were easily recognizable as wizard settlements.

"A... weapon?" She asked. From her faltering tone it was easy for Fenrir to imagine the chit thinking of some of the darker forbidden spells. Wizards hated plague spells with a passion - not even Voldemort would use them.

"Yes. They plan on using it to their advantage. Afterwards he will help them destroy what is left of the pure wizarding lines and our world will become inundated with_ mudbloods_ and _mixes_."

Fenrir grinned toothily. The Dark Lord was a master of the minds of others.

"That is horrible my Lord."

"Yes." The Ruler of Magical Britain nodded. "More parents will lose children, and children will lose their parents if this escalates into war. A terrible thing to happen now that we have just gotten back on our feet after eradicating those who allowed muggles to infiltrate our culture and perversify it."

"I hate them." Daphne said. Tears pricked out of the corners of her eyes.

"Yes. They will destroy us if given the chance." Order members had years of experience hiding their tracks, leaving only the strongest. And those under surveillance.

"Will you take out this weapon?" Voldemort asked, looking across the desk into the eyes of the young girl. Fenrir could have rolled his eyes when she blushed.

"Isn't this something my Lord should handle? I can see how I would succeed..." She stopped when he waved a hand through the air.

"Yes. But I am required to stay here for the time being." The blonds eyes flickered over to the kneeling werewolf and Fenrir growled.

"No, he won't be going either. I need a wizard… or a witch for this." The Dark Lord said calculatingly.

"What did you wish for me to do my lord?" The Grengrass heir asked.

"As a member of the Slytherin house I know that you are capable and cunning. Using any means you feel are necessary, I want you to bring him here so that I may finish this." Voldemort's eyes roved around her face before he pulled out a quill and made a few notes on the map.

"_Him_?"

"Harry Potter. Will you serve me? Will you bring this menace to me so that I may eradicate him once and for all? You will achieve high honor for troubles when you finish this small task." Fenrir stared at his master with wide eyes. This was supposed to be his task- and he would succeed.

"Th-thank you my Lord. For this honor."

"You will do it then?" The Dark Lord asked for clarification.

"…Yes."

"Good . I will have your Head of House bring you the information we have on the subject - you will leave by floo tonight. When I get a lock on his movements I will send a message by crow. Wizarding kind thanks you for your future service. Everything you need on your job will be provided for." Voldemort walked over to the fireplace and pulled out an elegant floo box. He passed it to her.

"Uh, Thank you." She said excitedly. A toss of green sand later and the room was cleared of all youngsters.

"Little sniveling bitch. You really think that she could succeed where I could not?" Fenrir's voice was full of hatred.

"She hasn't yet failed me." Voldemort replied rubbing salt in an already aching wound.

"I am – "

"Do not continue to argue with me. Your next task will be to clear the broken golems from the outer grounds of Hogwarts. I can't trust you with anything more important."

Fenrir growled angrily but his gaze couldn't meet the Dark Lord's face.

"Manually." Voldemort continued. "After that, I will summon you when I can think of a task that will be suitable to someone in your circumstance. I could use a month without having to hear of your constant failure when it comes down to one single wolf that continually slips from your grasp."

"Yes, Sire." Fenrir barked. He gave one bow before slamming out of the room. He was intent on finishing his task that very night. Lupin and his newly found 'friend' would not live to see a day beyond tomorrow. Fenrir swore on that.

.

.

A dark smirk came into being across Voldemort's face as one of his favorite servants ran from his office, ready to kill anything that stood in the way of success.

A shelf on the wall rumbled as it moved to the side of its original resting place. The man in the room, conqueror of Britain, paid it little heed. A dark form emerged from the shadowy alcove.

"My Lord?" The visitor asked in the stillness, with nary a whisper of his robes.

"You want to know why I have set him to clearing a field that will affect nothing." Voldemort said, ignoring the question all together.

The visitor turned his head to the side, long lanky black hair covering inky eyes. "Yes."

The Dark Lord seemed to be in a conversational mood. From his desk he looked over to the window and grinned nastily.

"He knows that, as well. Greyback will be done in two days at the most– but his anger at the situation will run much longer."

The Dark Lord fiddled with his wand. He looked at his visitor still standing, as if deciding to divulge more. His eyebrows quirked upward a bit and he continued as if giving a lecture.

"Starvation is the world's best flavor enhancer – he will be chomping at the bit to prove his worth to me. That lone rebel werewolf will be ripped to shreds long before the month is out."

The Death Eater walked over to the window where the light of the half moon shown on a werewolf moving giant broken animatrons from a battle site waged years ago. Eyes opened along the edge of the sill outside the widow; a hundred winged forms coalesced from the shadows and took flight.

"A murder of crows." The viewer stated.

"They will find the Potter boy and his werewolf." Voldemort leaned back in his chair, the very image of a satisfied dictator or master chess player. "I've always favored crows to owls. Extraordinarily persistent and cunning. Fierce. Much like yourself Severus."

.

_TBC_


End file.
